


Hello Again.

by Brookemichelleee



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25591219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brookemichelleee/pseuds/Brookemichelleee
Summary: Gilbert and Anne run into each other unexpectedly after years apart.This is my first ever attempt at writing.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is my first ever attempt at writing anything. Constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> It’s a short snippet, is it even long enough to be considered a one shot?! It’s just something that was stuck in my mind. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“Hi…” She stares at him like a deer caught in the path of a wagon. 

He doesn’t remember her hair being so red. He thought he would remember every detail of her.

“Uhm, hi.” His eyebrows. They haven’t changed in all their years apart, still expressive little caterpillars that she loves… loved. 

“I, uh.. how, I mean, you’re back?” Her eyebrows turn down and she knows they’re doing their best imitation of his. She’s stuttering, she can’t help it. He’s standing right there in front of her. 

Right. There. Keep it together, Anne. 

“Yes.” He nods. “Yeah, I’m… I’m back.” He wants to hug her. Just reach out and pull her in. He wishes that was something he was still allowed to do, but he left, and it’s not. Is it? No. Definitely not. 

The silence settles in and neither of them are quite sure what to do now. Do they make polite conversation? Do they go their separate ways? Just as Anne begins to make excuses to leave he blurts it out. 

“Would you like to go for a walk? Maybe… catch up? I mean, only if it’s not an imposition. If you don’t have somewhere else to be.” He wasn’t expecting to see her this soon. He doesn’t have the words yet to explain. The crumpled sheets of parchment adorning his bedroom floor can attest to that. 

She hesitates, he notices. Of course she doesn’t want to walk with him. Why would she after he left her. 

“I’m sorry, that was stupid of me. Have a good day, Anne.” His shoulders drop and he turns to leave. She can’t stand to watch him go. She never wants to watch him go again. 

“Gilbert!” He’s halfway out the door when he hears her call. He turns, hope plastered across his face. 

“Of course I’ll walk with you.” She smiles her bravest smile and the one he gives in return slowly thaws her. 

He’s holding the door open as she makes her way over. Together they leave the warmth of the store and begin their walk. Thoughts of errands for Marilla have left Anne’s mind and Gilbert can’t seem to recall what it was Bash needed so badly. 

There is a safe distance between them, enough for Anne to breathe easier, but still close enough for her hands to itch with the need to touch him. She doesn’t see, with her eyes focused on the snowy path beneath them, that Gilbert is having trouble looking anywhere but at her. 

“So” she says.

“So” he replies. 

“Are you just back for the holidays? Bash never mentioned your return. Marilla and I have invited him and sweet Dellie over for Christmas lunch but I am most sure that Marilla would be happy for you to accompany them.” Now she’s rambling. Is that any better than stuttering? She isn’t sure, but at least rambling leads to answers faster. Answers are better than the mess of scenarios rumbling through her brain. 

He scratches his head and glances away. 

“I’m sorry to have just appeared like this. I didn’t mean to cause you any upset. Bash didn’t know I was coming home. I wrote him a letter just before I left, but it appears the post is slower over the holiday season. But I, uh, I should tell you, I’m not just home for the holidays.” 

Anne slows “you’re not?” 

“No, Anne. I’m not.” His eyebrows are dancing their caterpillar dance again and Anne isn’t sure why. Whatever he has to say can’t be anything worse than words that have left his mouth before. 

“Anne, I… I came back for you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2! Let me know what you think!

Anne’s step falters and Gilbert reaches out to steady her. She jerks back, leaving his hands hanging between them, his fingertips tingling at the brief contact. 

Gilbert steps back, dropping his hands to his sides. 

Anne stares at his flexing fingers in a daze. She’s not yet ready to see the expectant look on his face. 

Back? For… her? Did she hear that right?

“Me? But, but, you… you left. You left, Gilbert!”

“Anne I kno-“ He tries, but she is nowhere near done yet. 

“No! No. You don’t know. You were gone. You wrote that, that, that letter, left it with Marilla, and were gone on the next train before I even had a chance to - to tell you! And it has been years. You have no right to come back here and say this when you were never even brave enough to answer any of my correspondence. Never brave enough to actually speak to me about your feelings! No, Gilbert. I do not accept that you are back for me.” 

By the time the words have finished spewing forth from her lips Anne is flushed and panting.

Her hands are screwed tightly into little fists, nails digging sharply into the soft cushion of her palms. How dare he. She turns on her heel and begins stomping away, determined to stare straight ahead. Good, let him watch her leave this time. 

“Anne! Please!” He calls, but she isn’t going to turn around for all the words in the world. 

——————————————————————-

The days between their encounter and Christmas blur around the edges for Anne. She tends to the household chores, taking on the extra work that is proving to be too strenuous for Marilla as the years pass. Matthews' passing proved difficult for Green Gables in the beginning, but with Anne finishing her studies at Queens and securing the teaching position at the school house she has been able to employ a new boy to help Jerry with the farm. 

It’s Christmas morning and Anne has just sent Jerry off with a basket full of plum puffs to enjoy the day with his family. Marilla is in the kitchen adding the finishing touches to their holiday lunch when there is a knock at the door. Anne’s mind has been in such a fog that it isn’t until this moment she realises who exactly will be on the other side.

“Marilla, could you please add another place setting to the table” she calls as she reluctantly makes her way to the door. 

“Well why would I do such a - Gilbert!” Marilla answers as Anne swings the door wide and steps back to let their guests through. 

“Ms. Cuthbert, I’m sorry to surprise you, I gather Anne has forgotten to mention I would be joining you. I can take my leave if it’s too much trouble.” He’s standing on the porch, wringing his hat between his hands. 

“Of course not” Marilla replies with a sharp look in Anne’s direction. “Come in out of the cold, I insist.” 

He steps through the door with Bash and little Delphine behind him. 

“Seasons greetings!” Yells Bash jovially, “thank you for hosting us, ladies of Green Gables. I’m not sure what we would do without you.”

“Have burnt toast with icky eggs!” Anne hears Dellie taunt on her way past, to the parlor Anne assumes. She can’t take her eyes off of Gilbert standing across from her, and it seems he is having the same trouble. 

“May I take Anne on a walk before lunch? I promise to be back in time for our meal.” He directs his question to Marilla, but his eyes don’t stray from Anne’s for more than a second. 

“Well, I suppose a quick walk would be fine. Go on now Anne, and don’t forget your coat.” Marilla squeezes Anne’s hand briefly on her way back to the stove, throwing her a tight smile and a nod over her shoulder. Anne will be fine. She can do this. 

—————————————————————

They walk side by side in silence, mirroring how it all began days ago.

Anne isn’t sure there is anything that Gilbert can say to help her understand. She knows he left for school. She knows it was the right thing to do. She doesn’t understand why he would reveal his feelings in a letter and then leave without knowing if she felt the same. And she certainly doesn’t understand why he never answered her own letters of confession. 

“Anne, I just want to say I’m sorry. I didn’t ever think there was a chance of you returning any feelings I have for you. Yes, have for you.” he says at her look of denial. 

“I wrote that letter thinking it would set me free. I could move on, if only I just put my heart to paper. That last year in Avonlea before I left I was so confused about everything. You would smile at me like I brightened your whole world and the next minute it was gone and I was on the end of another scathing remark. I figured you thought no better of me than Charlie Sloane. But Anne you have to know, I never received any correspondence from you. I swear if I did I would have written you everyday. I would have done more to come home for breaks. You said you never had the chance to tell me…. tell me what exactly?” 

Anne is so caught up in his words that her head starts to spin. Could he really feel like this? It wasn’t some cruel joke on the orphan girl he never planned to see again? Even so, she isn’t sure she’s ready to say the words out loud. 

“I think we should head back. Lunch will be served and Marilla will be ever so mad if it gets cold waiting for us.” 

Gilbert catches her hand as she turns, stilling her. 

She looks from his hand on hers to his eyes, watching her with a serious expression. The caterpillars are not pleased with her attempt at fleeing. 

“Anne, please. I need to know.” 

Anne, please, Anne, please. This time instead of leaving in a swirl of raging emotions, she decides to be brave. How can she fault him for not being brave if she isn’t willing to do the same thing herself. 

She steadies herself, looking right into his eyes. 

“I made it to the train station, to tell you. Your train was leaving, I was too late. And so I didn’t get the chance to tell you, before.” 

So she tells him now. 

“That I love you, Gilbert.”


End file.
